


Clothes Make the Man

by just_ann_now



Category: Swordspoint - Kushner
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:21:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_ann_now/pseuds/just_ann_now
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I didn't know it was the runaway Tremontaine and his lover, St Vier, at the time, how could I? I simply thought they were a rather odd pair to appear in my shop, ordering one of them a new suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clothes Make the Man

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for this lovely prompt! I really enjoy working with "belowstairs" characters.

I didn't know it was the runaway Tremontaine and his lover, St Vier, at the time, how could I? I simply thought they were a rather odd pair to appear in my shop, ordering one of them a new suit.

~*~

The clothes the client was wearing were interesting - worn, but of good cut and excellent fabric, the sort of thing a young man just starting out would invest in, knowing the importance of presenting the proper impression. I never could make out what it was about him - he was short, muscled but not overly so; I suppose if I had to describe his physicality, I would say that he seemed to be very comfortable in his body, even if he were not comfortable in the situation, that is to say, being handled and measured and manipulated by strangers. Some people are not; in fact, there are some sons of the nobility up on the Hill - I could give you names, but of course I won't - who have to be drugged, or drunk, or practically coerced by their wives or mothers or valets before I can come anywhere near them with a tape measure and pins.

Back to the young man in my shop: his companion was interesting as well. I remember thinking how it would have been a challenge to work with him, that height, and the slouch, pulling the shoulders out; it would have completely ruined the line of any currently fashionable cut of coat. He seemed to know a good bit about fabric, though, color and texture and drape. I wondered for a moment if he were a scion of a weaver or wool trader, though I should have known him if he were, through the Clothier's Guild; but couldn't at the moment think of whose son he might have been.

They quibbled like an old married couple through it all, though they were both quite young. For all that I could sense my client was uncomfortable with the process itself, the fitting and fabric selection, he wasn't uncomfortable with his companion in the slightest, in fact, there was a quite endearing undercurrent to the whole visit. He was doing something he didn't really want to do, but had agreed to whatever-it-was solely to please his companion, and all in a very good-natured manner. He ended up selecting that last bit of russet wool, a lovely fabric, though not quite the color I would have recommended. The indigo, now - that would have been magnificent. But he paid cash, the day he picked up the suit, which is more than some of the folk on the Hill do.

~*~

Of course I met his companion again, just a few weeks later, and then it all made perfect sense, what with all the gossip that was running rampant up and down the Hill - well, as perfect sense as any of the antics of the nobility _could._

I was called to Tremontaine House on a matter of _utmost urgency_. Of course I remembered him, the height alone would have been enough, though his hair had been cut, and he smelled of expensive grooming. He stood quite straight for the measuring, knowing everything that was expected of him; of course, the Duchess Tremontaine's grandson _would_. He'd even drawn some sketches of what he wanted, quite creditable ones, too. "Silk velvet," he murmured, in that aristocratic drawl I should have recognized before, "one green, one black. Shirts - elegant ones, ruffles, pin-tucking, whatever is fashionable this season. Lace? Carved buttons? Stockings, small clothes, everything. I want it all, the more expensive, the better - Grandmother's paying." I'm not a particularly greedy man, and have never been particularly exploitative of my clients - not like some clothiers I could name - but I couldn't help feeling my heart give a little leap. The expenses could be considerable - soft wool and linen, fine silk for the stockings, cutters, sempstresses, embroiderers; a rush job at that, my fee for managing it all - excellent.

~*~

I saw them again, months later, walking together outside Felman's Bookshop. St Vier was wearing the russet suit, looking quite elegant, I might add; in the summer sunlight the color did suit him after all. Lord David was back in his ragged scholar's robe and faded trousers. I felt a pang of disappointment - he'd looked like a god in that green velvet suit - but it was the nobility's money, after all, and their whims. Perhaps one day his lover St Vier might prevail upon him for a new robe, at least; I've some very lovely wool-and-silk worsted that drapes and gleams like the sky at midnight. With that height, Lord David could carry off, and look more like an elegant black swan than a disgruntled black bat.


End file.
